Liturgical Colors
by Fluttering Phalanges
Summary: In which Charlotte does indeed explode Chloe's car and the series of events that follow based on biblical colors.


**Black**

It's not like in the cartoons. No spray of colors invade her vision as the explosion knocks her back several feet. It's like a cloak, the fabric weighing down on her like a knight's chain-mail. She can't breathe, at least, it feels like that when she tries. Her head is spinning, ears ringing, but all she can see is black.

 **Red**

It's a blur, but he somehow ends up making it to the hospital without bulldozing people over as he sped through every traffic light. He's stumbling into the emergency room, shoving past a man limping as he grasps onto a pair of crutches. He falls and Lucifer can hear him cussing. An apology cannot even escape his lips, his mouth so dry.

He doesn't know how, but he manages to come across the operating room. Action over reasoning, he rams himself against the closed doors that open, thank god for inhuman strength, only to stop when he sees her.

She's torn up, deep gashes across her arms and legs, scarlet red blossoming through the gauze that so tightly wraps around each to stop the bleeding. He looks to her face, bruised, swollen, but intact. And despite her being critically injured from the blast, she still looks beautiful. Peaceful.

Oh, Chloe.

My Chloe.

 **White**

She wakes up to the hum of machines. She blinks and then blinks again. Slowly the darkness is replaced by light. White ceiling. White walls. Even what little blanket she can see from how she is positioned is white. The heaviness still weighs down upon her, but in a much different way. It's a heavy feeling, a fog seemingly covering her mind. But the darkness is gone and the light remains. It's then she feels something brushing against her palm. With her remaining strength, she turns her head slightly, the face of an extremely tired, extremely emotion, but visibly very much relieved staring back.

"Lucifer?"

 **Rose**

She doesn't understand the meaning behind flowers. Especially roses. Her mother had forced them to be her bouquet when she was marrying Dan. But now her hospital room was full of them. Enough, she quietly joked to herself, that she could open up her own floral shop. She has considered a few times to ask Lucifer to dispose of them, but he's currently fast asleep, face pressed against a pillow as he awkwardly sits in a chair, leaning forward against her bed. Maybe later, she decides, taking to running her fingers through his hair. Flowers be damned.

 **Violet**

Maze stands off to the side, arms folded as she watches Trixie carefully examine each of the "get well soon" cards. This would be number nine, the second of which was not homemade. Thankfully she had "borrowed" Amenadiel's wallet off of him. Chloe may be her friend, but she wasn't about to spend ten bucks on a piece of cardboard. After what feels like forever, Trixie decides on two, a violet one with a cat and another with a dog. She looks at the prices as smirks. Hopefully Amenadiel wasn't planning on doing something expensive this weekend.

 **Green**

There was something awfully satisfying about the gelatinous cubes of cherry jello Chloe so chose to refuse. He's leaning lightly against her, the television above her hospital bed turned onto some reality television show channel. It's dreadfully dull and he's almost positive that Chloe's intentions for keeping it on is solely to bore him. He considers being snarky about it, but his attention really isn't all that focused on the pixilated screen. They're on her.

"What?"

It takes him a moment to register, but she too is now staring.

"Nothing," he shrugs, "Just concerned your current state has jostled your entertainment appreciation abilities."

He knows she can see past that, just as well as he can with her. He feels something brush against his wrist and he doesn't need to look down to know Chloe is now holding his hand. He holds it gently, having to remind himself not to squeeze. She's not going to let go. He's not going to either. He looks to her again, but her eyes have returned to the television. Her features mask the injuries she has been dealt with. Green eyes that pierce the very heart and soul of the devil himself. He won't let go. Not again. Not ever. And he sure as hell won't let her do the same either.


End file.
